Here I am again… getting emotional.
Today I just happened pick up an old spiral notebook with some handwritten stuff in it. I discovered this “undelivered letter” written in my handwriting to Frances in March 13, 1969. We were living in San Juan, Argentina at the time. We never had a telephone in our rented house when we lived in San Juan. In those days you had to wait 9 years or more for a phone to be installed and then at great cost. I remember it was around 11 PM at night. I was in Buenos Aires for a meeting with national church leaders. I was waiting to place a call to a pastor in the interior. The only way to call long distance was to visit the phone company downtown, take a number and the operator would give you a time frame of 2 or 3 hours delay or more for your turn. You just had to show up at the designated time and wait for your number to be called. So I sat there alone in the middle of a crowd.
Reading this note today brings back the picture of the exact place where I was sitting on a bench in the sidewalk outdoors. My Frances had no telephone. She was out of my reach. So my emotions spilled out onto this now faded notepad.
But today, July 30, 2012, when I read this note over again, it seemed to take on new meaning and left me in tears. Because once again, my darling Frances is out of my reach. So I’m sending her another “undeliverable letter” repeating the same closing written words, “Where are you, my love? Tomorrow I’ll be seeing you… Will tomorrow ever come?”
You may click on the scan of my "undelivered letter" below to enlarge it if you wish to read it and risk getting a little teary.